


the bird and the worm

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Incest, M/M, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 04:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18909685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Castiel was 18 years old when he became Sam's wetnurse.





	the bird and the worm

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in 2014 and is sort of unfinished but also not? unbetaed, very messy with a rushed ending. you've been warned. thank you for reading.

Castiel was 18 years old when he became Sam’s wetnurse. The Winchesters moved next door in a heap of black car, seemingly back to square one, as they filled their new house with what little they brought along. Castiel remembered the little bundle of crying baby as John stepped out of his car, his eldest son clutching firmly at his leather jacket.

  
The next day, Castiel made pie, pecan as it was the only flavor he got left, as a welcome offering for the Winchesters in the neighborhood. John invited him inside with a tired but grateful smile. The living room was bare, Castiel was not surprised, though there was a beat-up cream-colored couch tucked in the corner where the eldest son was playing with a toy car, making odd noises through his pursed lip. A wooden crib was nearby, housing the sleeping baby, several bottles of milk by his side.

  
Castiel knew better than to ask but John introduced himself in a gruff manner like most dads did, saying, “Name’s John Winchester, got two kids, Dean, and the baby, Sam,” as they went to the dining table where John had prepared two plates and a pitcher of orange juice on the center table. Castiel introduced himself and was actually reeling from the idea that he and John went along. He didn’t notice that by the time he returned to his own house, it was nearing twilight and he got a smile on his face.

  
It was two weeks later that John confided in him if he knew a wetnurse that could go along as babysitter as well. John had found a job application in the daily newspaper and was planning to apply as a start. Castiel was reluctant to offer himself seeing as he got a job of his own but he reckoned he could switch duties with Hannah. He wanted to help and he could do with the extra cash.

  
That was what he told himself, anyway. The real reason was that his hormones were at their peak. His nipples were sensitive and engorged. They were slightly swelling and he’d rather have someone suck his tits than use that awful thing called a breastpump.

  
He blushed, reminiscing that moment where he asked his boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, he corrected himself angrily – to suck his engorged breasts. Jay just laughed at him, saying, “Your tits? God, Cas, you just know how to keep me going.” Jay told him his milk tasted delicious and Castiel preened at the information. He missed Jay. The worst part was, he was seeing Jay thrice a week at most because Jay was one of the team leaders.

  
Castiel blamed himself for the break-up. If he weren’t such an overly jealous bundle of imperfection, Jay wouldn’t have broken up with him. Their workplace was a call center where everyone wanted to please the higher ranks to get promotions. Gossips lived in every corner. Castiel didn’t mind the gossip about him using his body to wedge his way into contract after contract but when it got to a point where he heard stuff like Jay having sex with other employees, Castiel put his foot down and confronted his then-boyfriend. Their relationship just went downhill from there. During their fourth cool off, Jay told him that office romances didn’t work out and they should just break up.

  
Castiel pined for months. Time didn’t heal anything. Distractions were his bestfriend.

  
It seemed like his current distraction would be babysitting the Winchester kids.

  
And he was just doing that. Right now. Sam was clutching at his rolled up T-shirt, just enough to expose his left nipple, and eagerly sucking, milking him. Dean was watching, a hard set to his eyes.

  
“Hello Dean,” Castiel said.

  
“You’re a guy,” Dean observed.

  
“Yes,” Castiel answered, an open edge to his voice. He waited for Dean to voice the thing he was already expecting but Dean just looked at his almost-flat breast getting suckled by his brother, clearly bewildered. “Some of us males can produce milk and get pregnant. I’m one of them.”

  
Dean nodded slowly, still looking at his breast. Castiel thought Dean received the information quite well than other boys. Some pulled a face at him, others avoided him, but Dean just sat at his left side, caressing Sam’s head.

  
“I don’t wanna be one.” Dean said almost quietly for Castiel to hear. Castiel understood that. When he knew in Grade 1 that he could get pregnant, his mind recoiled, but as he grew he became overwhelmed by the thought, and when his breasts first produced milk, he was relieved. Just then, he realized he wanted to get pregnant. He wanted to bear a child in his belly. He wanted to be bred. The knowledge that someone, a life, growing inside of him made him happy in ways he had never been before. Castiel wondered how he would feel when the time came.

  
Castiel nodded at Dean. “Don’t think about this too much, Dean. You’re still young.”

  
“Are you going to be our new mother?”

  
Castiel backtracked at the question. He didn’t expect it, obviously. But Dean seemed curious.

  
“Why would you think that?” Castiel wanted to answer “No” but he could see the potential between him and John. Castiel felt that he should be mortified by the idea. He searched for that uncertainty in his gut but couldn’t find it. He relaxed.

  
“You made pecan pie,” Dean was saying, now looking up at Castiel, hands balled in fists. Castiel could see Dean was fighting not to cry. “You made dad smile again. Not a sad smile he sends our way but a true smile. You’re nursing Sammy. You’re like our mother but you’re also not.”

  
“I will never be your mother, Dean. “Castiel shifted Sam to suckle his right breast. “No one can replace your mother.” Castiel smiled at him, encouraging, sincere. Castiel was completely caught off-guard when Dean wrapped his small arms around his waist.

  
Dean was sniffling just barely but Castiel knew the young boy was crying. Castiel carded his fingers through Dean’s short dirty blond hair with streaks of brown. Castiel was already picturing himself watching this boy grow up, his hair would soon become brown, invading those boyish blond locks.

*

Castiel went straight to the Winchesters’ house after work just as John pulled out of the parking area with a “Dean can take over watching over Sam after you breastfed him. You can rest anytime you want. There’s food in the fridge ‘though not much. I’m sorry. I’ll shop soon. Thank you.” note plastered on the refrigerator door. Castiel, though tired, couldn’t help but smile.

  
Castiel got roughly about 6-8 hours sleep a day including naps and he was technically working 15 hours a day but he has never been this energetic. Baby-sitting didn’t feel like baby-sitting. He was just hanging out with Dean. Dean was only 4 years old but he was helpful. He worked, he cleaned, albeit that of a 4-year old sort of clean, he played with the other kids out on the road while Castiel supervised him. He was responsible. Castiel felt the boy had a responsibility on his shoulders.

*

Castiel woke up to John doubling over the toilet seat. He reeked of vomit and old beer. Castiel never saw him waste himself like this. Something must’ve happened. Castiel vaguely wondered the coincidental occurrence that it was his day off and John decided to get drunk on him as he tucked John in his bed after removing his boots.

  
Just as he was about to bolt out of the room, John grasped his wrist a little too tightly.

  
“I want you here, Cas,” John slurred. His eyes glazed with drunkenness. “I want you. Here. With us. Be part of my family.”

  
Castiel’s chest was in a whirlwind of emotions and they were welling up in his eyes. Castiel gave in to the firm tug and sat on the bed. John was drunk.

  
“We’ll talk later. Just sleep, John.”

  
John was quiet. Castiel leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

  
Castiel was feeding Dean with pancakes when John emerged from his bedroom. He looked clean and showered but there were lines under his eyes. He was definitely shocked to see Castiel early in the morning in his house and had already prepared breakfast.

  
He made a beeline to the fridge and pulled out a glass of water though when he saw the full coffeemaker, he changed his mind and got a cup of black coffee.

  
Castiel waited, busying himself with feeding Dean the last slices of the pancakes. Dean seemed to like getting pampered.

  
Finally, John spoke. “Did you stay the night?”

  
“Yes,” Castiel answered almost instantly. “I stayed with Dean.”

  
“I was serious about last night, Cas.”

  
“I know. And I accept.” There was no point delaying the inevitable. He talked to Dean last night and the kid seemed ecstatic about the development, already trying to call him “Mommy Cas.”

  
John was boring holes on his face so Castiel met his gaze. John’s eyes were moist. Castiel could do without John crying for his sake.

  
“We haven’t even dated,” John laughed, hauling Castiel to his feet and hugging him around the waist. Castiel eagerly responded by wrapping his arms around John’s neck.

  
“We’ve known each other for two months. I nursed Sam for almost six weeks. I’ve practically been living in your house since then. Dean’s already calling me “Mommy.” Yes, we haven’t dated but no dates could equal what I’ve shared with you.”

  
John kissed him. On the lips. Castiel responded, his senses zeroing in on John’s tongue touching almost all corners of Castiel’s mouth.

  
They only broke apart when Dean pointedly yelled, “Ew Dad! Mom!” as he ran out of the dining area.

*

Dean was already five years old. He was going to school soon and Castiel was looking forward to accompanying him to his first day.

*

Castiel quit his job and left his past behind, sold his house, and moved in with John.

*

John was sucking his nipple. He was very good with his mouth. God. Castiel was already hard, leaking precome, his hole clenching at nothing and if John would just-

  
There was a rough pounding on their bedroom door. John kept sucking his nipple, laving his tongue around the nub and Castiel felt his milk spurt out onto John’s tongue.

  
“John,” Castiel tried to push at John’s shoulders. It was a lost cause. “John, please. God. Dean’s at the door.”

  
John finally stopped and pressed his forehead between Castiel’s breasts. He was breathing rapidly. His hardness pressed against Castiel’s perineum.

  
“Alright,” John breathed. “I just – let’s wash up first.”

  
Dean wanted to sleep with them that night, tucked between John and Castiel, though Dean clung to Castiel like an octopus. Castiel was grateful they washed up first. He didn’t want Dean to smell his father’s saliva on his chest.

  
There was a change in Dean that Castiel just knew happened as Dean grew up. Castiel shouldn’t be worried. Kids grew up. Kids changed, but that change focused on Dean’s behavior towards him. Maybe that was normal. Castiel wasn’t aware and it made him angry that he didn’t know what exactly changed the air between him and Dean.

  
Castiel suspected, quite irrationally, that Dean was mad at him because he told Dean that he shouldn’t kiss Castiel on the mouth anymore. It wasn’t a big deal when Dean was five years old, grumpily seeking Castiel’s lips every morning before school. But then Dean turned twelve years old but the kissing didn’t stop. Castiel wanted to put a stop to it but it seemed like Dean was having none of it.

  
Dean kissed him, anyway, stealing a quick peck, then trudged down the pathway to the Impala where John and Sam were waiting. Castiel sent John a meaningful look but John just shook his head. He was never worried about it. “He’s your son, now. I see no wrong about it, baby,” John had said. Castiel would have argued more but John had stripped him down to his boxers and suckled his nipple. That must be John’s favorite thing about him.

*

Dean threw open the door with the force of a hurricane. Castiel might be exaggerating but it was a close call.

  
“Dean, what –” but Castiel was cut off when Dean kissed him firmly on the mouth, pulling his face down a bit. Dean was growing into a tall teenager.

  
“I’m gonna be a dad, Mom!” Dean was saying, which is just about the most hilarious thing Castiel has heard from him since Dean gave him the cold shoulder. Castiel’s amused thoughts deflated when a horrifying idea came to his mind. Did Dean knock someone up?

  
“What-” The lump in his throat seemed to grow bigger. “What do you mean?” Castiel finished quietly.

  
“The result came today! I’m potent to knock someone up! Not the other way around!”

  
Oh.

  
Castiel already suspected that Dean wasn’t like him. “Congratulations.”

  
“Thank you.” Dean was pulling him down again for a kiss, much to Castiel’s chagrin. Though Castiel indulged Dean’s urges. It was a good news for the kid after all.

  
When Castiel thought Dean’s unwarranted kisses were the worst thing he had to experience from the kid, Castiel was sorely mistaken.

  
Dean was jerking off. In their shared bathroom. Castiel told himself it was normal for a 16-year old teenager. Hell, he started masturbating when he was 13 and sticking fingers up his ass a day later.

  
This was normal, he told himself again. What wasn’t normal was Dean not minding to be quiet while he did it. Castiel remembered himself burying his face in the pillow to muffle his moans while a vibrator drilled his ass, and he made sure he was alone in the house when he did it. John was out for the weekend, something about team-building. Sam was on a two-day seminar. Dean must at least know that Castiel was in the house.

  
Castiel shook himself and threw the towel in the hamper. He’d shower when Dean finished.

  
And then Dean said something that made Castiel stop dead in his tracks. It was muffled but Castiel couldn’t mistake it.

  
“Ah – Cas,” Dean breathed, heady. “Cas, I’m gonna fuck you so good, Cas.”

  
Castiel felt an odd stirring in his gut and he bolted to his room. He was debating whether to consult this to John or not when he heard the knock.

  
“Mom?” Dean called.  
Castiel’s eyes went wide. His heart was a staccato in his ribcage. He didn’t know how to handle his son’s – his step-son’s – God, Castiel couldn’t even think about it without feeling nauseous.

  
Tears threatened to burst out of his eyes. He bit them back down and exhaled loudly through his mouth.

  
He cracked the door open just a bit. “Dean? What’s wrong?”

  
“Hey Mom, can I come in?”

  
No, Castiel’s mind wanted to protest. Dean was looking at him. He couldn’t say no.  
“Okay.”

  
Dean sat on the bed, propping his hands behind him and opening his legs.

  
Castiel was stock still by the door, his blue robe the only barrier from baring himself to Dean’s eyes.

  
“Did you want something?” Castiel was nervous and it was showing. His hands were shaking and he kept wringing them together. He couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes for more than a second.

  
“Nah, I just wanna sleep here tonight.” Dean said, getting up and already stripping down to his boxers. He was looking at Castiel while he did it. And his eyes – God – his eyes…

  
“No Dean, your dad-”

  
“Dad’s not here, Mom, come on.”

  
“Dean, you’re 16!” Castiel yelled and he flinched at his own voice.

  
“So what? It’s not like I’m gonna fuck you while you sleep.” Dean answered, incredulous.

  
“Dean, get out.” Castiel didn’t know where he got the stern tone in his voice. “Get out. Right now. Or I’ll call your dad.”

  
Dean seemed to deflate a little bit but he quickly recovered. He was a stubborn little kid when he wanted to be and being a teenager packed up with rebellious hormones just added to that quality.

  
“Okay, I’m sorry, Mom. That was outta line. I’m never gonna say that again. I just wanna sleep with you, okay? No nothing. I promise.”

  
Dean buried himself in the covers, farthest from the wall. Castiel sighed. God, what mess was he in, now?

  
“I’ll put on something.”

  
“You got a robe!”

  
Castiel rolled his eyes and changed into a T-shirt and boxers in the bathroom. Then, with a little contemplation, slipped on his robe as well. When Dean saw him, he groaned and muttered, “That’s just cold, Mom.”

  
He climbed on the bed and under the covers, facing away from Dean right away. That was probably the wrong move since Dean just nuzzled closer to him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

*

John died when Dean was 18 years old. Car accident. John was a good driver. Hell, he could drive safely after downing five stallions. Police reports said machinery error from the carrier truck that hit the Impala. Driver hit the jailbed, Dean made sure of that and Castiel was with him through the process.

  
That didn’t stop Castiel from blaming himself though. And Dean… Dean was blaming himself for John’s death, too.

  
But that didn’t matter now. Castiel had two sons to take care. They mourned. They shouted at each other, Sam breaking in their fight and telling them to grow up and deal with John’s death like normal adults. Dean going home drunk from his sideline work and passing out on the couch.

  
Castiel started hunting for jobs two months after John’s death. He was still in mourning. There were times when he looked at his bedside table and saw John’s face beside his own, he broke down into a sobbing mess.

*

Castiel awoke to a wet press to his neck.

  
Dean.

  
Dean was kissing him, pinning him to the bed, humping against him.

  
“Cas,” Dean breathed against the pulse in his neck, beating so loud for his own ear.

  
Dean was making sweet little rolls of his hips that made Castiel want to spread his legs, to have that hot friction where he wanted it to be.

  
“Dean, no, please.”

  
“No.” Dean protested.

  
“Dean.” It was a flat-out whine, but for what, Castiel wasn’t sure anymore. He wanted that dick ramming his ass. He didn’t want Dean’s dick – his step-son’s dick – inside him. He didn’t know anymore. Nothing was making any sense. He was still mourning John’s death, that, he was sure about himself. He loved John wholeheartedly. So, this feeling of desire he felt for Dean’s body rocking his own was confusing to hell.

  
He wanted to be loved again.

  
“I can give you what you want, Cas. You’re hurting. I’m hurting. Let’s heal each other.”

  
It was hot and Castiel was barely aware of his legs spreading and wrapping around Dean’s waist, of his arms wrapping around Dean’s neck.

  
Dean was still kissing his neck, along his jawline, and finally, his mouth.

  
Castiel was weak.

  
Castiel was 32 years old, getting humped by an 18-year old. His step-son, no less. Castiel couldn’t care any less. He felt that last string of his will to disconnect. He’ll worry later. And worry hard.

  
Fuck.


End file.
